


Drinking Games

by Miss_lestrudel



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Dancing, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-05 02:27:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3102020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_lestrudel/pseuds/Miss_lestrudel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bard shows Thranduil his culture by going to a local bar and drinking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drinking Games

**Author's Note:**

> (sorry I'm really bad at summarys)  
> But anyway, this is my first hobbit fic and my first Barduil fic so yeah.  
> It's more of a crack fic I suppose, since its more funny than romantic  
> hope you enjoy it! :) 
> 
> (P.S. they're already a couple)

          "Do I honestly have to do this?" Thranduil said with disdain in his voice.

          "You showed me elven culture, this is my culture." Bard said simply.

          They road on through the darkened streets of Laketown. Thranduil on his royal elk and Bard on his borrowed steed. They arrived to the more lit side of town, where murmurs and echoes of music could be heard.

          Bard stopped at a tavern named  _The Howling Rat Alehouse_. He jumped off his horse but Thranduil stayed on, reading the sign.

          "What does that even mean?" He asked.

          "Will you just come on."

          Thranduil sighed and climbed off his elk. "Howling Rat. Doesn't sound remotely appetizing." He mumbled.

          Bard smiled and led him inside where people were drinking, dancing, and being merry. Bard held up two fingers to the bartender and he nodded. He led Thranduil to a seat at the far right of the counter. The people stared at the elven king as he walked past, clad in his royal robes and crown. With a wisp of his cloak he took a seat, but the people kept staring for a moment.

          "I told you to leave the royal getup." Bard chuckled.

          "A king does not 'leave his royal getup'." He said.

          Bard chuckled again, elbowing him. "Lighten up."

          Thranduil squinted at him and the drinks finally arrived. It was a tiny glass filled with bright amber liquid. He looked at it with disgust.

          "You like to start things rough." Bard said. "This one's my specialty."

          Thranduil smelled it and his nose scrunched. Bard nodded to urge him on. He gave him a hateful glare before he tipped the glass all the way back. His eyes clamped shut as he tried to swallow. Finally, he finished, coughing into his arm.

          "What in all of Middle-Earth was that?" He sputtered.

          Bard burst out laughing. "It's called the Smaug, strongest whiskey in town." He said, drinking his own shot with a twisted face.

          "That was horrific." Thranduil said.

          "Would you rather a lady drink?" Bard teased. "Julian! Get my lovely lady friend a martini!"

          "No, no, J-Julian!" Thranduil called, holding his finger up. "I'll have a-uhm-" He squinted at the wooden board in the back. "A rum, just a neat rum, thank you."

          "The same for me." Bard said.

          Julian snickered. "Coming up."

          "Trying to prove yourself eh?" Bard smiled.

          Thranduil's face turned a shade of pink. "Elves can handle their alcohol, unlike you."

          "Oh ho ho!" Bard's eyebrows lifted. "Is that a wager. Mr. Smaug-is-too-much?"

          Finally, he smirked. "I believe it is, dragon-slayer."

* * *

          It was a little over an hour after the bet was made. Shot glasses decorated the counter, some tipped over, but all of them empty. Among them were empty wine glasses and mugs which were half filled with ale. At the bar, not a single person was left, save for the barkeep who was watching the exhibit shown on the dance floor. Everyone had pushed the tables aside to make room for the drunken merriment that stood before them.

          Everyone was dancing to the lively tune played by the band. Bard was loosely swinging around, swaying his hips in an attempt to dance. He gave up, giggling from the drinks, and instead decided to watch Thranduil from the bar. Thranduil was tapping his feet and raising his arms. His cloak swung around with him when he twirled and his hips stayed in tune with the beat. Once the music had stopped, he finally took in his surroundings, realizing Bard had left him. He sashayed back to the bar, where Bard was waiting, smiling.

          "What?" He asked.

          "You dance very well." Bard stated. "Almost like you didn't have a stick up your arse."

          Thranduil pouted and punched his shoulder. "Elves are exceptional dancers." He said.

          "And exceptional drinkers, as it would seem." Bard chuckled, lying his head on the counter. "My head is killing me already."

          Turning his head, he saw the elven kings branchy crown. Smiling, he sat up and placed it on his head. He turned to Thranduil with his lips parted and eyes squinted. He held his arms out, appearing to be holding reins.

          "I came to reclaim something of mine." He said in a low, regal tone.

          " _You're_ the arse-hat." Thranduil smiled, taking the crown from his head.

          "The arse-hat  _you_ love." Bard smirked, batting his eyelashes.

          Thranduil rolled his eyes. "Come on, I'll give you a ride home." He said, helping Bard out of the chair.

          "Oh you sure will give me a ride." Bard burst out laughing.

          "What are you twelve?" Thranduil said, smirking.

          He helped Bard climb onto his elk.

          "What about my horsie?" He asked, burying his face into the fur.

          "Don't worry about it." Thranduil said, tying the horse's reins to his elk's antlers.

          The elk thrashed his head around. He placed his hand on it's snout, trying to calm it.

          "I know boy, but please stay still." He said.

          The elk settled and Bard was staring at Thranduil giggling.

          "What?" He asked.

          "You have girly hair." Bard giggled again.

          "And so do you." Thranduil stated. "And promise me, never again drink 8 Smaugs. You're an idiot."

          "Aye, but I'm  _your_ idiot." He said, eyes closing.

          Thranduil sighed and kissed his sideways lips.

          "I guess you are." He whispered and climbed on his elk.

* * *

 

          Nearing Bard's house, Thranduil remembered something.  _His children have never met me_. He thought. Slowing his elk's pace, he began to poke Bard, hoping he'd wake up. No such luck. Thranduil huffed, finally making it to his house.

          He climbed off his elk and took a deep breath, knocking on the door. There was shuffling inside and hushed statements. The door opened quickly, with a point directed at his heart. At the end of the spear, was a dark haired boy who looked very much like Bard. Thranduil recalled his name to be Bain. Bain looked all around outside, finally spotting his father and dropping his spear.

          "So that's the elf Da talks about." Someone whispered inside.

          "He's pretty." A younger voice whispered back.

          Thranduil cleared his throat. "Well if you're not set on killing me, I'd like to return your father." He said gesturing to the now snoring Bard.

          Bain looked him up and down, as if analyzing every detail.

          "Bring him in." He said, moving back inside.

          Thranduil turned around and stared at Bard, questioning how to get him inside. He settled on throwing him over his shoulder, with great effort.

          "Kings shouldn't have to lift things." He mumbled to himself.

          There was a soft chuckle on his back and he grumbled some nasty words about 'that bastard' being awake as he carried him inside. 

          Inside it was small, definitely tiny for an elf. His crown scraped the ceiling as he walked further inside. He threw Bard on the empty bed Bain was pointing at. 

          "Thank you my king." Bard smiled, eyes still closed.

          Thranduil smirked and turned around. He was now faced with two girls staring him down, smiling. He remembered the youngest was named Tilda, however he couldn't remember the eldest.  _Sigil? Segret? Sigly?_

          "Hello." He said awkwardly, inching his way to the door.

          "You're a king." The eldest sister said and then leaned down to whisper to her sister. "Da never said he was a king."

          "Yes well, I have to go now. Your father's been drinking, so I'd keep an eye on him." He said quickly as he moved faster to the door.

          Closing the door, he leaned on his elk.

          "Time to go home." He sighed.

* * *

          The next morning Bard awoke to his children eating breakfast.

          "I like your boyfriend, Da." Tilda said.

          "Yeah, he's real manly." Sigrid giggled. 

          Bard chuckled, sitting up.

          "Ow! Ow, no Da's not getting up for a bit." He stated, holding his head as he laid down once again.

          "Wow, you really were hammered huh, Da?" Sigrid asked, giggling again.

          "Oh stop it." Bard smiled. Then his face grew more stern as he pointed at Tilda. "Don't you take after your father you hear?"

          "Yeah, yeah." She said.

          "Oh yeah, I found something in your pocket." Bain said, giving Bard a piece of inked cloth. 

          On it, it read:  _Elves are also good at deceiving drunken friends._ Bard thought about it, confused. Then he realized that most of Thranduil's shots had been clear. He claimed they were "highly distilled" and "pure".

          "Bastard." Bard mumbled.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> It's only my second time writing in third person, so I hope you enjoyed! :D


End file.
